I'm Still Here
by Kiryn
Summary: What does happen to the Nobodies when they die? What happened to Draco during those nineteen years and after? The story of two people's path to redemption.
1. Chapter 1: No Good Deed

**A/N: I said to myself at one point that I wouldn't post this until it was all the way done. That way, there would be no agony on the part of the reader and no pressure on me. But then I thought about it, and I realized that wasn't what I was here for. I'm here to improve my writing, and how can I improve when everything's already done? What's the point in asking for constructive criticism when it wouldn't be of actual use? So, I axed that original plan of mine. So I would really, really, really appreciate feedback on this. This was inspired by a dream I had, and I'm posting this chapter now because I'm struggling to polish chapter 2 and I want to see if any inspiration or something can be struck. Hopefully, I'll have improved by the end of this. If anyone is interested in betaing, please let me know. Mind, I need a beta for plot and characterization, not spelling and grammar. I have spell check for that, thank you very much. **

**IMPORTANT NOTE: The breakers are kind of important. If they are 'X's, they denote Zexion's perspective. The later 'O's denote Draco's.**

**PAIRINGS: This will be a Zemyx, Zexion/Demyx for those who don't know. But for the most part it will only ever be talked about. Demyx himself will not be physically present until the end. There's no explicit boylove here (mostly because I'd be blushing too hard to write it). Other main pairing will be Draco/Astoria. So don't read if this offends you. **

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor do I own Harry Potter. I don't even own the title of the story or the chapter title. Title of the story is the song "I'm Still Here" by John Resnik, and chapter title is the song "No Good Deed" from Wicked the musical. I own my plot, and that's it. **

I'm Still Here

Chapter 1: No Good Deed

"_Silly. Just because you have a next life…" –Axel, Kingdom Hearts II_

xXx

Where do Nobodies go when they die?

It was the question on the tip of everyone's tongue as the Worlds of Light gleaned more information about us, and about Organization XIII. They said we have no hearts. We have no emotions. We do not truly exist. So what, then, happens to us when we fade away, when we are defeated for the final time? For those asking the question, it is one that they will never be able to answer. _They _aren't Nobodies. And the ones who could tell them are gone to where they can't answer. That's sort of the whole point. Not that a lot of us would be willing to answer anyway.

Strangely enough, we were probably the only ones who weren't so fixated on this. You would think we would be, seeing as it very much concerned us. But for the most part, our focus remained on surviving so that we would never have to find out. Some, like Vexen, were vaguely interested in the subject as it pertained to science and trying to figure out what we really were, and how it was possible that we existed, as by all accounts we weren't supposed to.

I think I would like to disagree with that. About the non-existing part, I mean. Yes, I understand that I am no longer in possession of a heart. In fact, I think I am more aware of it than any of the so-called Somebodies. But I don't think that means that I wasn't supposed to exist. By default, if I wasn't supposed to exist, then I wouldn't. It's a fundamental principle of the universe. Heartless, for instance, have no hearts, but no one ever points a figure at them and claims that they were never supposed to exist. Why should we be classified as anything different? The presence of a heart, or lack thereof, isn't conclusive to one's existence.

Personally, I think that people should be rather comforted by the idea of Nobodies. Yes, it isn't terribly pleasant, living without a heart, but at least you would know that a part of you could survive an attack of the Heartless, that you wouldn't be completely lost forever. I won't claim that you would be the same, but at least you wouldn't fade from existence altogether. We all still retain traits and some physical features of our Other. Even Roxas did, and Roxas could remember nothing of his former life. And most of us do remember our past lives.

I was Ienzo, one of Ansem's original apprentices, and one of the original's to fall when Xehanort completely lost his mind in his obsession. As a Nobody, I became known as Zexion, Number VI, the Cloaked Schemer of the Organization. What am I now? I don't really know, so for the time being I will stick with Zexion. The anagrams grow on you after having been addressed by them for so long. And I suppose I'm not really Ienzo, am I? Ienzo is dead, after having lost the thing that apparently makes us human. The only thing that makes us worthy of respect or fair treatment.

Even as Ienzo, I think I would have frowned upon the immediate denunciation of the Nobodies and the Organization and the shunting them off into the 'enemies' category. With some of us, I could understand where this impression comes from. Xemnas, for one, and Saix another, and no one could forget Larxene. But Demyx? Passive, violence-hating Demyx? I can hardly think of a person less worthy of being treated as something less than human, some beast with no emotions.

We may not have a heart, but that doesn't mean that we don't feel. Even if the feelings are a lie, only an echo of what we remember emotions as being, they feel real to us. Isn't that what Sora said about the false memories implanted by Namine? So how are our emotions any different? Sure, we lie, and wear emotional masks at times, but so does everyone. The notion that we only _pretend_ to feel, that we only do it to lie and manipulate people, is completely ridiculous. Why? Why on earth would we do that? I wish I was as emotionless as everyone claims that I am. Everything would be so much simpler.

It wouldn't have hurt when Demyx fell to Sora's keyblade. It wouldn't have hurt so much that the emotion itself didn't make sense. I suppose I felt some sort of pang when I watched my fellow Organization members fall one by one, but it was nothing like what I felt when I watched Demyx being mocked by those who could never hope to understand his claims and hopes that we did, after all, have hearts.

_Run, Demyx. Run away. Don't do this. Don't die needlessly. You don't deserve it. _

But since when did Demyx ever do what I wanted him to?

It was rather aggravating, to die so early in the game. Because then all I could do was watch and wait. Wait for the inevitable.

Where does a Nobody go after their death? Nothing glamorous, I assure.

I, at least, ended up in a room.

That's all. Just a room. A plainly furnished, single room. If the same fate awaited Axel and Demyx, they would probably go stir-crazy for lack of anything interesting to do. Anything interesting besides the watching, I mean.

This was how I was aware of Demyx's death when mine had occurred so long ago. This was how I was able to watch the Organization fall. After having been here for awhile, I came to the conclusion that this was a sort of waiting room, if you will. A waiting room that enabled the occupants to see and hear the current events happening in the lives of those concerned with us. As for what it was, exactly, that we were waiting _for_, I don't know. I suppose that we were to find out after the final demise of the Organization.

So that is where I am to be found. Waiting for over a year, possibly going on two years. Time is a tricky thing to keep track of here. Well, for everyone I suppose except Luxord.

While none of the others are in 'my' room, I surmise that they are in similar locations, somewhere. I couldn't imagine otherwise why I would be singled out. And supposing my assumptions are correct, we won't have to wait much longer. At the rate Sora's going, and with the power he is ever amassing as his mastery of the keyblade grows, it's only a matter of time until the last few members still living will meet their ends. Even Axel, the consummate survivor, who I would have pegged as being one of the last ones left, had fallen. Of course, I suspect he would have lived longer if it was purely based on an offensive meeting. Then again, maybe not. Roxas is, I suppose, inside of Sora after all, and Axel would never endanger Roxas. Which is why he ended up sacrificing himself, all for the sake of the Keyblade Master.

Oh, Axel. It all seems so pointless. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe your selfless actions will cause Sora to pause and think. Perhaps it will plant the seed in his mind that maybe high and mighty beings like the sorcerer Yen Sid don't know everything. Maybe there's more to Nobodies. I will not dispute that some of the Organization did deserve to die. But maybe someone will see that not all of us did, or even the majority.

It's more depressing than I would have imagined. Watching this. Seeing the so few of us left. Seeing too late that Xemnas never intended to keep his promises, to know that so many of us died needlessly, and were sent to our deaths for loyalty, one of the only things we had left. Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene, Lexaeus, and myself were the first ones, and Demyx…

Demyx. Why, why, why did you choose that mission to be the one you attempted?

Xigbar had just fallen. Three members left. Luxord, Saix, and Xemnas himself. Of course, why fight when you can have other people who actually do deserve to live do it for you? Well…Luxord, at least, deserves to live. And it's ironic, for how many times did other members mock his weapons and his ability? And who is one of the last standing?

He won't stand for long. Luxord's ability isn't one that can be used the best offensively. Saix, however…that would be cruel, if the rest of us died, but the one most deserving of it didn't. Not including the Superior, of course.

It seems to me that the ones still alive are the ones that stayed out of the way, avoided detection. If Axel hadn't pulled that stunt with the Riku Replica, I bet I would still be alive.

Looking back, one might call me an idiot. Why, Zexion? Why in the name of Kingdom Hearts did you trust _Axel_ of all people? Axel, who you just saw kill Vexen, who set up the deaths of Larxene and Marluxia?

Easily answered. _I _wasn't a traitor. And unlike Vexen, _I_ wasn't threatening Roxas. At first, you know, once the shock of the whole death thing wore off, I figured that was what had triggered Axel setting up the attack on me. I had, in his mind, endangered Roxas, and as everyone now knows, nothing that endangers Roxas is allowed to live. But now I'm not so sure. I was killed for 'knowing too much'. _That_ didn't sound like Axel. Vexen's death made sense. He was trying to tell Sora about Roxas and bring them into contact, and who knows what could have happened. Axel did as Axel does and eliminated the threat to Roxas, while conveniently doing the bidding of Marluxia and the Superior. But now I think…what if, this was just one of Xemnas' plots to slowly chip the rest of us away via Axel? I think that's the real reason behind my death. I would have been clever enough to figure out what Xemnas was really on about. At any rate, it makes it easier to forgive Axel. Even that damn puppet.

It wouldn't surprise me if Saix had been in on it, and had just been too stupid and blinded to realize that Xemnas would double-cross him as he had done to the rest of us. Honestly, who knew with Saix? Everyone knew that his hold on sanity was tenuous at best, and as Sora would soon be figuring out.

Indeed. There goes Luxord. Never thought that I would side with Sora, but _please_ let him kill Saix. Come, come, keyblade master. Defeat the last and the worst of the Organization. At this point, I think all of us are hoping for Sora's victory. If only because otherwise might be an eternity in this room.

And very nice touch, Luxord. Keep him guessing until the very end. Really, though, you would think that he would have figured out who Roxas was by now. There have been more than enough hints. Axel practically told you. You even have a picture of him!

I wonder…do our mental powers develop along with our physical prowess? I know mine did, but what about those like Roxas? Curious…and now I sound like Vexen, and I will never know.

…And there goes Saix into Berserker mode. Joy.

I really did not care to watch these final two battles. If only there had been a few books provided in here. Was one small book too much to ask for? Or a door. If I could leave this room…I would like to have seen Demyx. There were others too, but I wanted to see Demyx above all. Strange, I know. What need would I have to see the Melodious Nocturne?

…It was a question I didn't know the answer to. I don't even know what I would _say_ to him. I just…wanted to see him.

Of course, none of that mattered, seeing as, like I said previously, there is no door in this room. Really, there isn't. No doors, no windows…except for the one currently showcasing an epic battle between the forces of good and evil.

Even my sarcasm was deserting me. Lovely.

A clanging crash does draw my attention back to the 'window', for lack of a better word, and I can't help the slight widening of my eyes as I saw that Saix's claymore had dropped and was now on the floor, leaving a few dents before vanishing. Saix himself drops a little, staggering forward to stare at the Kingdom Hearts moon…and he's faded.

Remarkable. A boy that still displayed his youth in the roundness of his cheeks had defeated _Saix_, and not just any Saix, but a Saix fully gone into _Berserker mode_. Even Larxene's most psychotic rages couldn't hold a candle to that.

Well, I tip my proverbial hat to you, Sora. You finally did the world a favor and killed Saix.

It all feels so surreal. Everything feels like some kind of strange dream, half pleasant, but always morphing into nightmares. And just like in a dream when something roughly shakes you awake, in a blink and a flash, everything is gone.

_Finally._ See you in hell, Xemnas.

xXx

Where do Nobodies go when they die?

"You are lost."

The words ring out of thick, almost solid white mist, coming from everywhere at once, ringing so loudly that it hurt my ears.

…I have ears?

"I know."

My voice issues out in a raspy stream without conscious thought, and as I said it I became aware that not only did I possess ears, I also possessed a voice. And if I could see the swirling, bright, bright mist, I must have had eyes to see it with. Or was this blindness?

"Do you?" rings the voice. It is androgynous, and it seems impossible to discern anything from it.

"Yes. To be lost is to not know where I am. Seeing as I don't, in fact, know where I am, it would implicate that I am lost, as you say."

"Do you know why you are here?"

"I think it would be obvious that I don't know why."

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I…" My brain felt sluggish, capable of producing the answer but unresponsive. The tide was tickling my toes, waiting to crash down onto me, but for now content.

"You are lost."

"As has been established." Responses and quips seemed to rise to my lips with no thought needed. Curious.

"You are lost and are at a standstill, unable to go back and unable to go forward."

"Go forward to what?" I felt as if there was something of vital importance, hovering just beyond my fingertips. I am unable to see it or understand it properly, just was vaguely aware of that it was important.

"Your next life."

"Next…I am…dead?"

"Yes." Why did something feel off about that statement? _Not dead not dead…_

"I faded?" Better. It sounded more right. Smelled?

"Very good. You're remembering a little bit more."

"More of what?" I felt that I should be frustrated. But I'm not?

"Why you are lost. Why you are stuck. What you _are_."

Are?

"What am I?"

"You are Nobody."

"Well thanks." Sarcasm. It also seemed familiar. Safe?

"You are. You are a Nobody. Never meant to exist, yet are. Or did. Being without a heart."

"…Alright…"

"You lost your heart. It needs to be reclaimed. Without it, you cannot go forward. And since you cannot go back, you are stuck."

"…I suppose that makes sense." Vaguely. Everything is vague. Because I have no heart?

"You missed your chance and did not reclaim it in your life."

"So I have to reclaim it in my next life?"

"Yes and no."

"Well that made sense." Answers are riddles. My…existence is a riddle. Riddles with no answers.

"You cannot move forward to your next life without your heart."

"So how was the answer yes?"

"You need to find half to move. The other half you need to find in your next life. And so on through your lives until you find it."

"…Alright? So what do I do to move forward?"

"You must complete a task."

"Task? Of what kind?" Nothing could be easy.

"A good deed."

The words seemed foreign on my ears.

"You must help someone else."

Help someone else? I…I cannot remember the last time I had done such a thing. Had I ever?

"Many people are lost. You must help another find their way."

"Another…Nobody?"

"Maybe. Lost ones always seem to forget their heart."

So not necessarily a Nobody.

"Not necessarily, but in the same likeness. Nobodies are not the only ones capable of feeling the absence of their hearts."

Absence…emptiness…searching…longing…

"Yes. You do want your heart back, don't you?"

_YES_.

"More than anything." Something stirred within my consciousness. Pulling, tugging, needing me to remember. Shouting at me through water.

_Water…water water water water water water water water water water—_

"Then you had best be on your way. Farewell for the present."

I had been…sitting? Staring with blank eyes at the coiling mist. Suddenly it shifted faster, faster than I could follow it. The next thing I saw, it was enveloping over me. Nothing but white.

xXx

I blinked.

I was…sitting in a room. A dark room, with the faintest traces of a…green (?)...glow. I blinked again, my vision adjusting. It was a bedroom. A bedroom with many beds. Five of them. One of them occupied.

He (it was a young man, around my own 'age') had pale blonde hair, pale skin, with hollow cheeks. It was almost an unhealthy pallor.

I inhaled sharply. Hundreds of odors crashed down onto my senses. My brain sorted through them with long-practiced ease. He wasn't sick…merely stressed?

There was darkness in him. It had a sharp tang. But there was a puff of light hidden in there too. Was this it? Was I, of all people, supposed to blow on that light and ignite it?

And I remembered.

I had been Ienzo. But he was dead. I was Zexion. Zexion the Cloaked Schemer, Number VI of Organization XIII. And I would be getting my heart back at long last.

That faint, insistent tug I had acknowledged earlier pulled again. Demanding my attention this time. And realization stabbed me. Everything stabbed me all over again, as if it were happening for the first time. Pain and grief…? How could I…feel…?

But that didn't matter so much.

"Demyx…"

**End A/N: As far as the next chapter goes, it's written, but it still needs to be polished. So expect it…well, not **_**soon**_**, but hopefully within a few weeks. Let me know if anyone's interested in betaing, and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Point of Extinction

**A/N: Eek. This is like, almost unbearably short. But I hated the first version, because I was rushing through it to the point it ended up OOC, so I rewrote it and I just can't force this chapter anymore. So here it is. Hopefully the next chapter will be better. As always, please, please review! Tell me if I managed to steer clear of the OOC-ness!**

**I know that I'm not the most reliable updater in the world, but bear with me…if you can. If not…it's not like I can force you, really. And to my readers of RAF…I am so sorry to infinity, but I have some issues with the next chapter still…so you're still update-less. But please keep in mind it WILL be updated…I just don't know when. But at least it'll be better for it in the end, I hope. Besides, I'm on a Kingdom Hearts kick right now, and I'm going to have to move back to my college in a couple of weeks, so my mind is just not with Artemis right now.**

**And ****MegaKiraraLover****? I would love it if you could beta for me. Just not this chapter, though, because I'm sick of it for right now. But can I take you up on your offer for chapter 3 (when it's written)?**

**Warnings: Um…there's probably some swearing down there, or some that will appear eventually. I swear frequently. Get used to it.**

**Pairings: Zemyx (Zexion/Demyx) and Draco/Astoria (eventually, so not here yet.)**

**Note: Notice the breakers? They're 'O's this time around. So that means it's time for Draco's perspective.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah…you would have to be high off cough syrup to believe that I own either Kingdom Hearts or Harry Potter. And if I did, you would be able to tell, because both Zexion and Sirius would still be alive (although Sirius has nothing to do with this fic, but hush). Title of the story taken from John Resnik's "I'm Still Here", and chapter title taken from Motion City Soundtrack's "Point of Extinction"…in case you didn't know. **

Chapter 2: The Point of Extinction

"_I'm so tired. I've had enough. If there's one thing I've learned, you'll always get burned, but you'll never give it up." –Motion City Soundtrack_

oOo

It was over.

"_The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy…"_

It was all finally over. As impossible as that seemed.

He was dead. The Dark Lord was dead.

And it felt like I was dead right along with him. My life didn't even seem real anymore, like it was all one huge nightmare. I might as well have gone into a coma for the past two years, and now at the end of it, there was only one of two ways I could go. I could die…or I could wake up. I didn't know which one frightened me more. Even now, at the end of all things that I knew, I didn't want to die. That was just the deepest part of human nature, the will to live, the fear of death. And yet…I was so tired. So, so tired. Death was the easiest of my options, which were, as they always seemed to be now, picking the lesser of the two evils. Death, the final end, or living and having to pick up the pieces of the most colossal mess in all of history, in which case I would probably end up in prison? Decisions, decisions.

You couldn't say that I was…happy, exactly. Relieved would be a better way to describe it. All I could distinguish out of a whirlwind of emotions was the relief that it was all over. I didn't know if I was happy or sad, triumphant or furious. I was just relieved. I didn't care anymore. I had gone to bed the past two years wishing to never wake up again. But right now, I just wanted to stay in this moment forever, where everyone was still too busy celebrating the fact that they were still alive and reuniting with family members and loved ones, people crying and screaming and squishing until the whole lot of us were one big mess of people. I felt a little lost, standing there and watching all the people around me hugging each other and not letting go, forming a misshapen sort of group hug. I was glad that they weren't noticing me, but still…I wished that I could join in. I wished that I could forget the pain and the suffering and the _mess_ and everything to come just for a few moments.

But there was no place for a Death Eater here. However reluctant a one he may have been.

I turned around to leave, even though I didn't know where else I could go. It was pointless to try to outrun the Aurors, for what then? Would I spend the rest of my life as a criminal on the run? No, and I wasn't willing to waste the effort, especially as right now I had absolutely nothing left to give. I was drained, even more than I had been in sixth year, trying to pull off an impossible task. My heart was too tired to even give a customary twinge of guilt at the thought of Dumbledore, as it had every other time I had thought of him.

But then a flash of something caught the corner of my eyes as a newcomer struggled through the melee, directly at me. A distinctly familiar something. It was hair. White-blonde hair.

My mother.

"Draco!"

I turned back around and for a minute I couldn't help but stare at her as she pushed her way toward me. In that moment, she looked so different from anything I had known her as. Her hair was not swept up into a neat coiffure, nor hanging down in a smooth, silky curtain of purest white silver. Now it was dirty and tangled, falling all over her face and in her eyes and she wasn't even trying to push it away. Her nails were not perfectly manicured, but short with ragged, bloody edges, and her hands were no longer clean and soft-looking, but just as dirty as the rest of her. At this moment, all dignity was forgotten as she roughly shoved people out of her way, using physical force for the first time in my life to clear the path ahead of her. All Slytherin subtlety had been thrown out the window as she fought like some brash, stupid Gryffindor to my side.

And my tired, indifferent heart suddenly came to painful life, as if someone had wrapped a cord around it and was squeezing it tight. A strange warmth flooded through me as, embarrassingly enough, tears sprang into my eyes. I didn't shed any, but even if I had I wouldn't have cared in that moment, because suddenly the only thing going through my mind was that it was my _mother_, and she was _alive_, _we_ were alive, we were _okay_, and I was so very happy to see her.

She was crying, I saw as she got closer. I was still frozen in place as the foreign emotions swamped me, and she was crying as I had never seen her cry before. These were tears of joy and unutterable relief and awe at this undeserved miracle. Then her arms were around me, painfully tight, but I didn't care, it was so wonderful, and even under the dust and blood she still smelt faintly of her perfume, and to me this blended smell was of _safety _and _peace_.

"Draco, oh my darling, my Draco, thank God, thank God you're all right, my baby—" She was chanting over and over again, crushing me to her, her lips moving as reverently as if she were giving voice to the holiest of prayers.

Over her shoulder my eyes came upon an even more surprising sight. My father had been behind my mother, but his steps were tentative, timid in comparison to my mother's. Like my sleekly sophisticated mother, gone completely was my haughty, proud, powerful father that even Azkaban had not wholly taken away. But he was gone now, and in his place was a small and weak, overburdened man who had crumpled under the weight, with traces of a lingering, terrible fear in his eyes. His eyes met mine and we stared at each other, neither of knowing what to say, so completely out of our depths here.

But there was some greater force at work here that was too great for us to stand against, and as if drawn in by some magnetic pull he was next to us and his arms were around both me and my mother, and since this was the end of everything we were all crying, all of us, tears running down our cheeks and mingling as we pressed as close and tightly together as we could, like all the other families around us were doing.

_Family_.

For the first time, we were really, truly, a _family_, just like everyone else. In this moment, in this second, every single one of the hearts in the Great Hall seemed to beat in tandem. We were all equal. We were all survivors.

We were all okay.

oOo

Hours passed, at once slow and sickeningly fast. Once reassured that closest family and friends were there and accounted for, some had spread out, mingling with everyone else, basking in this kinship we shared in the immediate wake of the battle. Blearily, I saw that Potter was performing his duty as the 'savior', shuffling through the crowds, clasping hands everywhere he turned. When I summoned up the energy to care, that was going to be unbearable. Most had dropped to sit on the closest available surfaces, not caring at all for House separation or even if it was the floor. Children leaned on parents, mothers stroked their hands through hair, fathers with full arms wrapped tight. Everything was settling down. Initial jubilation and adrenaline had worn off, and now everyone was drooping and swaying, but forcing their eyes open for just a little while longer. Right now, everything was fine and simple and real. But when we closed our eyes, we would wake up to the real nightmare. And I for one knew that I wanted to prolong that.

I was sitting with my parents at the Hufflepuff table, of all places. Hardly anyone sitting was talking really, us included. We all just sat in comfortable, companionable silence, unwilling to disturb the moment, this strange tranquil peace we had fallen into. It was almost as if we were borrowing from somebody's else's dream, some rosy person who wasn't a Death Eater like us. But for the first time, I knew that I wasn't going to be alone in my nightmares of blood and stomach-churning violence and guilt. Everyone in this hall would be having the same dreams as me. Now I wouldn't be the only one who dreamed of falling, broken bodies, of being filled with helpless fear because you knew that you couldn't do anything to stop it.

Everything has an end, and this was no different. Little by little, people began trickling out of the hall, either making their way home or, in quite a few students' cases, heading for their House dormitories. Authority figures who couldn't afford to sleep yet, even though they probably so desperately wanted to, started moving here and there, beginning to snip the frays off the larger ball of yarn. Hints of order began to ripple through the room. It was starting.

We stayed where we were. No use in running, and they had to speak to us sooner or later.

It was McGonagall who finally came to us. Gone were the stern lines, pursed lips and flashing eyes. She looked just like everyone else that I'd seen and what I felt like on the inside. Tired. She probably wished that everything would just be over too. Wished that she didn't have to start picking up the pieces already. There were so many. But she was doing it anyway. Because she was strong and brave and a Gryffindor, and that's what Gryffindors did. Me, though…I'm not any of those things. Especially not right now.

I still didn't know if I wanted to even try to pick all those pieces up.


End file.
